


Tailor's Boy

by wolfie_slays



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Face Slapping, M/M, Name-Calling, Peter Parker Looks Good in a Suit, Public Hand Jobs, Tailor's Assistant Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-19 00:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16129703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie_slays/pseuds/wolfie_slays
Summary: Peter is a tailor's assistant saving up to go to MIT, and who should step into the shop for a fitting but actual Tony Stark? Tony invites Peter to an event, and gets possessive. Smut ensues :)





	1. Chapter 1

“Mr Stark?”

A voice from the fitting room to Tony’s right called him, and he turned to see a young boy stood in the doorway. ‘He’s pretty’ was the first thought that invaded its way into Tony’s brain, and objectively, it wasn’t wrong. Short, with lanky limbs that seemed to go on for miles, and big, doe eyes that Tony concluded would look very pretty full of tears, preferably from choking on his cock. It took Tony a second to register that the boy was still talking to him. 

“Mr Stark? We’re ready to get you fitted, sir.”

“Right, yeah, sorry, not very with it today.” Tony apologised, sending the boy a literal award-wining grin as he stood and made his way over. “You new here, kid?”

“Yes, sir.” the boy nodded. 

“You have a name?”

“Peter, sir.”

“Peter, I like it.” Tony hummed as the boy led him into the luxurious room and shut the door behind him. “You want to be a tailor, kid?”

“Just saving up for college, sir.” smiled Peter softly as he picked up a measuring tape. “Am I okay to take your measurements?”

“Given that I’m paying a couple of grand for this suit, I should hope you’re gonna measure me.” Tony chuckled, shrugging off his blazer, leaving him in a tight fitting t-shirt and jeans. “Go for it, kid.”

Peter worked quickly and efficiently, but Tony didn’t miss how his breath hitched when he had to skim his hands up the older man’s torso to take his chest measurements, how his hands shook as he measured the inside of Tony’s thigh. The way the boy’s tongue peeked out from between pink lips every time he wrote down a number had Tony running through pi in his head in an effort to stave off a very inappropriate erection. 

“What college you applying for, squirt?” Tony asked to break up the silence. “Anywhere special?”

“Um, MIT actually, sir.” Peter mumbled, winding the tape around Tony’s ankle. “I want to study chemical engineering.”

“Jeez.” Tony breathed, eyes widening. Hot and clever? And then, out of nowhere: “How do you feel about being my date to this event next week? It’s pretty high-brow and kind of boring, but you can mingle with a bunch of people in the industry, get your name out there. It’s a competitive field.”

Peter gaped for a second, eyes wide as Tony regarded him coolly, flailing slightly with his notebook gripped tightly in his hands. 

“That’d be amazing, Mr Stark, sir.” Peter choked out eventually. “Thank you so much, that’s an incredible opportunity for me to-”

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Tony grinned, waving him off. “Doesn’t do me any harm to turn up at an event with a pretty boy on my arm.”

Peter flushed, stammering something about fabric consultation, and fled the room, leaving Tony to shrug himself back into his blazer and head out to the front counter where Peter was stood. 

“Text me your address.” Tony smirked as he pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled his cell on the back of Peter’s notepad. “I’ll pick you up, probably around nine next Saturday night.”

“Thank you so much, Mr Stark, I don’t know how I could ever repay you for something like this.”

“Oh, I think we’ll figure something out, pretty boy.” Tony leered. “Have someone take your measurements, tell them you’ll need a suit that compliments my tie. Put it on my account.”

“Mr Stark, I can’t-”

“Yes you can.” Tony nodded. “Have them make it a little tight around the thighs. That’s more than enough incentive for me, sweetheart.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Tony Stark** : I’m outside your apartment. Red Lamborghini.

Peter swallowed nervously as the text illuminated his phone screen, twisting this way and that in the tiny mirror on the inside of his tiny wardrobe. He looked good, there was no denying it; a knowing look from the tailor when Peter had managed to stutter out that his suit had been a request from Tony Stark had resulted in a dark red piece that was slightly too small _everywhere,_ and to be quite frank his ass looked fantastic. 

A last ruffle through his messy brown hair and reassuring inspection of his long legs in the mirror, Peter let himself out of his apartment, taking the elevator down to find a bright red Lamborghini parked very illegally on the kerb outside. The mirrored front window came down to reveal a grinning Tony Stark, and Peter felt himself flush under the man’s intense gaze. 

“You look fantastic, kid.” smirked the man. “Get in.”

The authoritative tone had Peter scrambling to obey, rushing round to the other side and sliding into the low seat, suddenly acutely aware of how hot he was in such close proximity to Tony. 

“Hi Mr Stark, sir.” Peter mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “Um, how’re you?”

“Fine kid, bordering on amazing now I’ve seen your gorgeous legs in something that wasn’t bought at Walmart.” Tony laughed, pulling away from the kerb. “Also, drop the ‘sir’, it sounds sinful coming out of your mouth and I’d rather not walk in there with a semi.”

Peter swallowed audibly, mouth opening with the intent of replying with something witty and being shocked to find his mind completely blank. He instead settled with sneaking glances at Tony’s side profile as he weaved the car in and out of the New York traffic, the sharp cut of his jawline and truly impressive forearms that made Peter’s mouth go dry. It took the boy a second to realise Tony was talking to him. 

“So how old are you, kid?”

“Eighteen, sir.” Peter murmured nervously. “Just.”

Peter watched carefully as Tony’s jaw clenched and his throat constricted when he swallowed harshly.

“Christ, I’m nearly three times your age.” Tony said finally, voice low and gravelly. “Fucking hell.”

“Is that-” Peter licked his lips nervously. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Morally, yes. The rest of it? You looking so fucking pretty and innocent with your big brown eyes? Fuck no.”

Peter swallowed, suddenly acutely aware that he was half-hard under the luxurious material of his slacks. Tony followed his gaze and chuckled lowly, the devilish smirk on the older man’s face making Peter practically swoon.

“You hard, baby boy? You like it when I tell you you’re pretty?”

The boy flushed a dark red at Tony’s words, their crudeness making him feel so dirty, instilling in him the sudden urge to lean over and beg the older man to take him. 

“I expect you to answer me when I talk to you, Peter.”

“I, um, yes, yes sir. I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm. Stroke yourself.”

Peter choked on air, flailing slightly as Tony’s dark eyes bored into his own in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. Body thrumming with nerves, yet compelled by Tony’s deep, commanding tone, Peter pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch, breath hitching at the sudden pressure that felt _so damn good_. He set up a rhythm, letting out soft, breathy moans, feeling every inch of Tony’s hot gaze on him as he palmed himself, the exposure bringing him to the edge embarrassingly quickly. 

“Take yourself out, baby.” Tony commanded. “Don’t want to make a mess of that pretty suit, do we? Christ you look wrecked, you’re stunning.”

Peter whined, but was so caught up in the hot pleasure that he eased his zipper down and pulled his cock out, hard and weeping, the head a dark purple with the need to cum. 

“Come on, sweetheart, we’re almost there. Wouldn’t want to have to walk in there all hard and aching, would you?”

Peter whimpered, but started stroking again, feeling almost dizzy with the sensation of skin-on-skin. It wasn’t long before his thighs started shaking and he was letting out little ‘ _ah, ah’_ noises. 

“Please.” Peter breathed, eyes screwed shut. “Please can I come, sir?”

“Fuck.” Peter groaned. “Yes, so good, baby, come for me.”

Peter cried out, covering the head of his dick with his palm as he came, throwing his head back and biting his lower lip, milking himself until it got almost painful. With a sudden burst of confidence, Peter looked over to make eye contact with Tony and raised his hand to his mouth, licking his own cum off his fingers with long swipes. Tony cursed, foot slamming down on the brake. 

“We’re here.” he said. “Fuck, kid, that was so hot. I don’t think I’ve been this hard without a helping hand since I was in my twenties.”

“Thank you, sir.” Peter mumbled, smiling shyly as he tucked himself away. “Should we, um…”

He trailed off, unsure of the etiquette at an event like this, but Tony just grinned at him. 

“If we must.” he joked. “Normally I hate stuff like this, but I have a distinct feeling that tonight’s going to be quite a bit of fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

Tony’s hand was a grounding weight on Peter’s back, and the boy was well aware of how possessive it looked as Tony waved to the numerous camera people stood outside, before ushering Peter through the entryway.

The hall they found themselves in was extravagant, full of bright, gleaming lights and chandeliers and men with more money than sense parading young, pretty things around the dancefloor. Peter flushed at the looks being sent their way; some judgemental, some downright _wanting_ , though whether it was want for Tony or Peter himself, the boy couldn’t be sure. 

Peter found himself inching closer to Tony as they passed through the throngs of people, very aware of the way his suit clung to his legs, his ass, his shoulders, very aware of what he looked like stood next to Tony Stark. Tony smirked as he noticed Peter’s nervousness, and the hand previously on his back slid down to his ass, gripping it firmly, staking his claim in front of everyone in the room. 

“Mr Stark!” Peter hissed, feeling himself flush bright red as a group of well-dressed men chuckled at him from across the room. “What are you doing?”

“Showing everyone who you belong to, sweetness.” Tony smirked. “Making sure there’s no confusion over who owns this cute ass.”

Peter could have fainted at those words, had he not been so worried about messing up his gorgeous suit. Instead he just swallowed, exhaled, and plastered a coy smile on his face, fluttering his eyelashes appealingly at a man stood at the bar who was blatantly staring. 

“Good boy.” Tony murmured. “Let them want you, knowing they _can’t_.” 

The rest of the party passed in a blur that Peter spent looking pretty on Tony’s arm as the older man gushed his praises to several dusty men and women in high positions at MIT. As it got later and later, Peter found himself getting more and more needy, the sight of Tony dressed to the nines holding a glass of whiskey and just _exuding_ power and control making him dizzy. 

“Be a good boy for the next ten minutes whilst we say good bye and I’ll make it worth your while later, okay?”

Peter nodded dumbly, eyes glazing over with lust until he found himself being dragged outside to Tony’s car, strong hands urging him to get in. As soon as the doors were shut, Peter leaned over to the older man, desperate for contact, but Tony stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. 

“If I kiss you now, we won’t make it back to my place.” Tony said, revving the engine as he pulled away from the curb. “And we really need a bed for what I want to do to you.”

Peter let out a whine, head falling back against the plush leather of the car seats, taking deep breaths in a futile effort to calm himself. Tony’s side profile was just so damn gorgeous, all strong powerful arms and a jawline Michelangelo could have carved. 

Tony was driving erratically in his effort to get them both to a bed, so it wasn’t long before they zoomed up a long, winding drive and into a garage. Any other time Peter would have been overawed by the incredible show of technology around him, but his dick was so hard he couldn’t think straight. 

“Get out.” Tony instructed through gritted teeth, and Peter scrambled to obey, meeting the older man on the other side of the car where he was roughly pushed up against the bonnet. 

“Jesus fuck you’re so hot.” Tony groaned, moving to mouth at the underside of Peter’s jaw. “The way you were walking round all night in that _fucking_ suit, looking all glazed over like you were just _salivating_ for it, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life.”

“Couldn’t think straight.” Peter gasped in admission. “You just looked so good, everyone in that room wanted to fuck you, didn’t want to let you go.”

“All yours tonight, baby boy.” Tony assured against the tender skin of Peter’s throat. “Gonna make you feel so good, you’re never gonna want another man again.”

“Yes, sir, Mr Stark, please fuck me.” Peter whimpered as the older man’s thigh pushed in between his legs. “I’m so ready for you, sir, please.”

“Up.” Tony commanded, sliding his hands under Peter’s thighs as the younger boy wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist, burying his head against Tony’s neck, nipping along his collar bone. 

Tony walked them over to the elevator, struggling to keep his balance when the kid was working wonders with his mouth, but managed to press the button to his penthouse, immediately pressing Peter against the frosted glass window, connecting their lips as the boy let out a squeak of surprise. 

Before long they had reached Tony’s bedroom, both breathless and flushed, Peter looking at Tony with swollen lips and glassy eyes that made the man want to do unspeakable things to him. 

“You’re so pretty.” Tony breathed, standing at the foot of the bed, surveying the boy sprawled across it. “Strip. Completely. Show me that pretty cock.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter scrambled to obey, clumsy fingers fumbling with the expensive material as Tony rummaged for lube, throwing it onto the bed. 

Instead of joining the boy, Tony eased himself into a chair across the room, shirt unbuttoned enough to show his toned chest, legs spread and looking like power personified. The sight of it made Peter want to crawl to the man and beg to suck his cock, beg to kiss his shoes, beg to do anything he wanted him to. 

Instead he stayed still, pinned by Tony’s piercing and heady gaze, flushed and lean chest heaving with lust and excitement, little pink cock drooling obscenely, leaving a pool of precome on his belly. 

“Clean yourself up before we start, baby.” Tony commanded. “Wouldn’t want you messy now, would we?”

Peter swallowed as he ran skinny fingers through the mess on his stomach, laving at each of his digits as if he was sucking cock, letting out an appreciative breathy moan at the way Tony’s hand dropped to palm his cock through those hideously expensive slacks. The way Peter lay, exposed, an object for Tony’s viewing pleasure as the older man was fully clothed made a bolt of arousal shoot through him, cock twitching. 

“Is that good enough, sir?” Peter asked, eyes wide and innocent.

“Perfect.” Tony nodded, voice rough and deep. “Jesus, I can’t wait to sink into that tight little pink hole. Prep yourself for me, honey. Put on a show.”

“Of course, Mr Stark.” Peter nodded emphatically, reaching for the bottle of lube, slicking up two fingers. 

“Slowly, Peter.” 

“But Mr Stark, I can take it-”

“I said, do it slowly. Are you disobeying me?”

“No, sir. Sorry sir.”

Peter ran his slick fingers over his hole, easing the tip of one finger in and out, biting his lip to repress the frustrated whine that threatened to burst through his lips. Eventually he eased his first finger in up to the first knuckle, keening at the familiar stretch, whining needily at the sound of Tony’s zipper being eased down. 

“You want my cock, baby boy?”

“Yes, Mr Stark, please.” Peter begged, thrusting his finger in an effort to find his prostate and offer some kind of relief. 

“Add another finger, sweetness. Stretch that pretty hole open for me to see.”

Peter almost whimpered in relief, immediately pushing another finger in beside the first, scissoring them both enough that Tony had a good view of his swollen, puffy pink rim stretched around his thin fingers. The deep groan from the older man was enough to have him begging, thrusting his fingers in and out. 

“Please fuck me, Mr Stark, please, I need your cock, need you to fill me up-”

“Legs up, angel.”

Peter scrambled to obey, rolling over and hooking his hands under his legs, pulling them up to give Tony a good view. The older man stood, unbuttoning and pulling off his shirt to reveal a tanned, toned chest that Peter wanted to worship with his tongue. He stepped out of his trousers and Peter bit his lip at the size of Tony’s cock, flushed a deep red with precome beading at the top. 

“So pretty for me, you’re like a doll.” Tony murmured, fingers dipping to Peter’s hole, rubbing through the lube. “You ready for me?”

“Yes, sir. Please, give it to me.”

“Of course, baby.” Tony chuckled roughly, pushing the head of his cock past that tight ring of muscle. Tony hissed at the sudden tight, wet heat, thrusting shallowly. Peter whined, canting his hips up. “Something the matter, Peter?”

“Please, Mr Stark, I need you to _use me_.”

Tony swore his heart stopped for a second, and his hips were thrusting, hard, before his brain had caught up with what he was doing. His hips slapped against Peter’s, the boy letting out breathy moans, little _ah, ah, ah’s,_ that made Tony want to ruin him. 

“That good for you, angel? Letting yourself be paraded round in that obscene suit all night, letting people stare at you, all the while knowing you were gonna end the night with _my_ cock in your ass?”

“Yes, Mr Stark, so- _ah_ -so good, love being your fucktoy, _please_.”

“Fuck, you little slut.” Tony growled, hitting Peter’s prostate on a particularly hard thrust and grinding against it, sobs of pleasure falling from the younger boy’s mouth. “You like being my little fucktoy, hmm? Like it a bit rough?”

“Yes, sir, I love it. Please, Mr Stark, please hit me!”

“Ahhh, gets you off to have a big strong man smack you around?” Tony chuckled darkly, before raising a hand and slapping Peter hard across the face. The younger boy whined, long and low, cock jerking, precome dribbling down the shaft. “Such a fucking slut.”

Tony resumed his pace, the sight of a the boy below him, a red handprint marring that perfect face, swollen lips and tear-filled eyes making him desperate to mark the kid with his cum. Peter whined as Tony slapped him again and again, cries of _yes, yes, yes_ falling from his lips, cock an angry red. 

“You ready to come for me, slutty boy?” Tony growled, wrapping a calloused palm around Peter’s cock. The boy whimpered at the sensation, nodding emphatically, mouth open in a silent moan as Tony repeatedly nailed his prostate. 

Tony worked his hand quickly, chasing his own release as he jerked the younger boy, sliding a hand over the weeping head. A final, resounding smack across Peter’s tear-stained face was all it took to have the boy coming hard, back arching beautifully, his broken cry echoing around the room. 

“You’re so gorgeous, fuck.” Tony groaned, still thrusting into Peter’s abused swollen hole. 

“Please mark me, Mr Stark, make me yours.” Peter begged breathily, and Tony was coming with a ragged grunt, pulling out to let the ropes of cum decorate Peter’s flushed chest. 

“Wow.” Peter breathed eventually, after he’d taken the proffered flannel and cleaned himself up. “That was incredible. Thank you Mr Stark.”

“I just had my cock up your ass, I think you can call me Tony, kid.” Tony chuckled, opening his arms for the younger boy to snuggle against him. 

“So this isn’t just a one-time thing?” Peter asked softly, voice muffled by Tony’s chest. 

“You think I’d ever let you go after that? Think again, honey.”


End file.
